


After Midnight

by Myka, UnholyNightmare



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Bootcamp, Bottom Ash Lynx, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Rebellious Ash Lynx, officer kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myka/pseuds/Myka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyNightmare/pseuds/UnholyNightmare
Summary: Being shipped off to bootcamp one more time by his impossible father makes Ash absolutely furious.But when he catches the eye of the silver haired Colonel Foxx, other urges rise to the surface.
Relationships: Eduardo L. Fox/Ash Lynx
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caramel_Roze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caramel_Roze/gifts).



> Commission for Caramel_Roze. Hope you like it!

  
[Art by Salmon](https://twitter.com/sushisalmon95)

* * *

Ash watches the sight of the city get smaller in the rearview mirror as the limo drives further and further into farm country. 

“Stupid old man.” Ash mutters under his breath, glancing at the letter his father, Dino, ordered to be handed to him as he was forced to get on the limo. “He thinks he can threaten me with taking my inheritance if I don't go to this stupid boot camp.”

The limo stops by a high security fence complete with a security guard. “Aren’t you going in?”

“The boss said to drop you off here, master Aslan.”

“Are you serious?” Ash grabs his backpack and opens the door. Grumbling as his Ferragamo shoes got smeared on the mud.

The limo drives off and Ash has no choice but to lean against the brick wall of the guard outpost, crossing his arms and shivering in the chill of the fresh Autumn air. Eventually, after a very long and very boring wait, the guard quietly flicks a switch and the gate begins to open, as a man dressed in a stark grey military suit approaches.

“Young Golzine?” he asks, voice cold and authoritative.

Ash looks up into the man’s flinty blue eyes, the greying hair at his temples only making him look more severe–a statuesque man of the law.

Ask clicks his tongue in answer. “That’s my old man. My name’s Ash.”

The man’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as he nods for Ash to come into the camp. “Your father enrolled you for our three week extensive program. I will warn you only once that starting this moment, you will obey every single command I give you, as well as that of any other sergeant in this facility.”

Ash bites his lower lip and holds in his snarky reply. Barely. Dino had sent him to enough of these so called “educational camps” that he knows that appearing to be obedient is always easier then talking back. “Yes, sir,” he mutters, watching the way the red clay of the earth sticks to his shoes as he walks.

“Ah.” 

Even in that one syllable, Ash can hear a change of tone in the man’s voice. The strictness fades ever so slightly and is replaced by satisfaction. 

“You know your manners. That’s rare here.” The Colonel doesn’t deign to look down at Ash, just keeps walking, his pace quick and practiced as he clenches his arms behind his back.

Ash can’t take his eyes off the man, and this pisses him off more than he can say.  _ It’s not like you’re the first glorified asshole I’ve met _ , Ash thinks, but he just nods, a small, tight thing, as they reach a small barrack.

“Pick a bed, drop your belongings and change. You have two minutes.”

Then the door closes, leaving Ash alone. He makes his way into the barracks and throws his small bag up on the first empty bunk, kicking the foot of the bed without mercy and swearing up and down about Dino and his stupid rules and his equally stupid punishments. “Just wait until I’m eighteen,  _ Papa _ ,” he hisses sarcastically, undressing down to his boxers before glancing around to locate a pair of fatigues.

The door opens suddenly and unexpectedly. “It’s been two minutes,” the Colonel says, standing stick straight, but watching Ash like a hawk.

“The fatigues were not on my bed, sir.” Ash grits his teeth and stands in attention like he knows he’s supposed to.

The Colonel walks across the barrack, his eyes catching Ash’s own as he opens a drawer and dropps a pair of fatigues on Ash’s bunk. “One minute.”

“Yes, sir.” Ash holds his breath and grabs for the clothes, but his hand is suddenly seized by the Colonel.

“Tops first.” 

A shiver runs up Ash’s spine, his awareness increasing tenfold as the Colonel releases him, then freezes in place, standing less than a foot from him. The Colonel stands at least a full head taller than Ash, and Ash can barely breathe without brushing against the older man. Ash slowly grabs the fatigue top and unfolds it, too aware that any extended motion he makes will cause him to have contact with the Colonel.

Ash has met men like this before. Those that use their bodies as a way to intimidate. Ash knows that all he has to do is keep his cool and— 

The Colonel’s hand touches the small of his bare back. Ash freezes, eyes catching. 

“Defiance won't be tolerated of any kind.” The Colonel’s voice lowers. “I am not like any of your previous commanders. Do not make me wait. Do not disobey. You will not be called Ash because Ash isn't your legal name.”

The fingers on the small of his back rub softly against his skin, not moving from that one spot. “It’s Aslan Jade Golzine, sir,” Ash says, with a petulant tilt of his head. “But  _ you _ can call me Ash. Sir.”

Ash wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, only that his heart was pattering against his chest, and his palms were starting to sweat, and something about this man was doing it, was creating this pulsing, nervous warmth.

Desire.

The Colonel grins then, sharp curve of his mouth inviting and dangerous as he bends down, releasing his hand from Ash’s back, but securing it on the top of the dresser that Ash stands next to, leaving almost no room between their bodies at all. “Oh can I,  _ Aslan _ ?” 

Ash swallows hard and tried to keep the man’s stare, but the icy blue chill of his eyes proved too much. Ash breaks first, nose wrinkling in irritation and looking instead at the bunk, where his bag lays unzipped, meager possessions of his spectacularly shitty life spread thin. “Yes, Colonel… sir…”

“Foxx.” The Colonel grins. “Are we clear on the rules?”

“Yes, sir,” Ash replies, slowly starting to dress as was expected of him.

“Good.” Colonel Foxx takes a step back, nodding his head towards the rest of the fatigues. “Finish dressing. Then you are to report to Lieutenant Lobo who is currently out on field A with your… colleagues.”

Ash waits a moment, but the Colonel doesn’t leave, just stands there watching him. Sighing, Ash continues to dress, shrugging into the itchy long sleeved shirt and cargo pants. He stands at attention again as soon as he is done, and hesitantly holds a hand to his forehead in salute.

Colonel Foxx nods in approval. “You’re dismissed.”   
Ash drops his hand, and turns to leave.   
“Young Golzine.” Foxx called just before Ash was at the door. “I’ll call you Ash, if you come to my office at midnight.”

Ash turns in surprise, eyes flicking to the Colonel’s. They haven’t changed at all–are still cold, and calculating, but a tiny hint of a smile has cracked his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” Ash says quietly again, then he flees.

* * *

_ “My office, at midnight.” _

The words bounce around Ash’s head all through the afternoon, even as his commanding Lieutenant Lobo screams at him to do ten more push-ups for rolling his eyes. Ash is used to it. Physical strain doesn’t bother him, but it’s still a relief when the dining bell rings in the early evening. The mess hall is quieter than usual, the boys all exhausted from the long day and barely staying awake.

Ash’s hands tremble as he picks at his mashed potatoes, his cheeks burning every time he thinks about it.

_ “My office, at midnight.” _

_ “My office, at midnight.” _

It isn’t hard to sneak from the barracks–the security isn’t as strict as other camps he’s been in–but it isn’t until he’s quietly slipped from his bunk and made it outside the building that he considers the fact that he probably should have worn more clothing.

His regulation issued uniform shirt and black boxer briefs feel flimsy against the cool of the night air, but there is no way he’s turning around now. 

This is it. This is something exhilarating. 

This is dangerous.

His stomach roils with anxiety as he hugs the side of the building, gingerly scooting around it until he can see Colonel Foxx’s office—light still on, but dim, so dim it almost looks like a reflection of something lit.

Ash finally reaches the door, his heart in his throat, but even as he raises his hand to knock, it opens with a singular creaking noise, and Colonel Foxx stands there, looking down at him with steely blue eyes.

“You’re out of bed, Young Golzine,” he says quietly, voice stiff and hard.

There’s a momentary flicker of nervousness in Ash’s stomach that he’s misheard, that he’s misinterpreted, that he’s fucked up, but then the Colonel opens the door wider, allowing him in. 

Ash brushes past him in silence, coming to stand before the desk that is clean and barren of any paperwork, lit only by the soft glow of a tall lamp in the corner of the office. “You requested me, sir,” Ash says, shuddering slightly as goosebumps rise at his neck.

The door closes with a small thump, and then Foxx is right behind him, so close his uniform pants brush against the back of Ash’s thigh, so close that his breath is hot on the back of Ash’s neck. 

“You seem to struggle with orders,” Foxx says quietly, leaning in so that his lips glance against Ash’s ear. “You need to be punished.”

Ash gulps, nerves on fire, a combination of fear, and excitement thrumming so hard through him he thinks he might burst. “Yes, sir,” he whispers, a flush of heat spreading from his chest to up to his ears.

“What was that?” Foxx asks, bumping up against Ash now, and looping a hand around one of Ash’s wrists, holding tight.

Swallowing, Ash tries again, louder this time. “Yes, sir.”

“Look at me,” Foxx orders, gripping tighter, then pushing at one of Ash’s shoulders, forcing him to turn.

Ash does, trying to hold his eyes, trying to ignore the burning embarrassment that he’s already half hard, and that it’s so easy to see his cock pushing against the fabric of his briefs. 

“Scared?” Foxx asks, a smile quirking on his face. “Nervous?”

“I’m…” Ash struggles for words, trying to figure out how to say it. “I’ve never...I guess…”

“Are you a virgin?” Reaching out, Foxx cups the curve of Ash’s jaw and tilts his head up. “Is this your first time?”

“No,” Ash spits out, cheeks flaming. “No, just...with a...with another man. I guess.” 

“Ah.” Foxx’s fingers curl, then trace down the line of Ash’s neck, further, then further, until they reach the first button of his shirt. “Don’t worry,” Foxx says with a smile, fingers popping open the buttons one by one. “I’m going to teach you.”

Ash shudders, eyes closing and cock throbbing with want. “Yes, sir,” he whispers again, voice short and breathy.

Foxx deftly works each button until Ash’s uniform shirt is completely open, exposing his chest to the cool air. Then Foxx turns him back to the desk again, wrapping one hand around Ash’s throat gently, and letting the other stroke down his chest, down to his navel, circling there for a moment before brushing at the fine, golden hairs that led lower. “Relax,” he croons, leaning in and nipping at Ash’s ear. “Put your hands on the desk.”

Gulping, Ash obeys, his palms flat down against the surface, and his entire body tense. “I...I’m…”

“Just do as I say,” Foxx whispers, kissing at Ash’s neck, letting his hand dip beneath the waistband of Ash’s briefs.

Ash bites his lower lip. It feels so good. All the girls he’s been with before were so kind when they touched him, so careful. This is so different from that. Foxx wraps his hand around Ash’s cock and pumps once hard, and it takes all of Ash’s willpower to keep himself from thrusting against him. A moan escapes his lips, and then he presses them tight, ashamed that he’s made any sound at all.

“Don’t be shy,” Foxx murmurs, still stroking Ash’s cock, thumbing around the head and wetting it with precum. “You can make any noise you want, Ash. Moan for me. Let me know how good you feel.”

Ash’s lips part at this, his nickname on the Colonel’s lips making him shudder in pleasure. A little gasp of air escapes as Foxx suddenly withdraws and then pushes down Ash’s briefs in one go.

“Bend over a little more,” Foxx murmurs at his neck again. “I want to get you good and ready for my cock. You’re going to take it like a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Mmm…” Ash moans, shivers crawling up his skin, hands shaking against the desk as he holds himself there, but he lowers further, spreading his legs out more, and letting out a little whimper as the Colonel drips something wet against the cleft of his ass.

“Well done,” Foxx repeats, working one finger in and gently pressing around Ash’s walls.

It’s too much at first, it feels wrong, and foreign, and Ash grunts, gritting his teeth together hard, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make it stop, to leave. His eyes squeeze closed as he tries to stay still, but then Foxx presses a second finger in, filling him more, and then a third, and then–

“Ah…” Ash gasps, an explosion of pleasure rocketing through him. “Oh god...oh…”

“Right there,” Foxx groans, kissing down the curve of Ash’s spine, and smiling against his back. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ash moans, hands tightening into fists. “Yes–”

Foxx freezes against him, fingers no longer moving, barely breathing. Ash tries to rock back against him, but Foxx just holds him steady against the desk.

“Yes, what?” Foxx requests, suddenly cold again, scary.

“Yes,  _ sir _ ,” Ash begs, whining, grinding his own cock at the wood. “Yes, sir ,sir, please, sir, more, sir–”

“More what?” Foxx replies, moving slightly again, barely rubbing against that perfect spot, over, and over, and over, and–

He withdraws his hand, and Ash keens so loud in dismay that it fills the office with sound. “Please,” he begs. “Please, sir, finger my ass more, sir, please...”

Foxx is still behind him, and the sound him working at his belt cuts through Ash’s begging. There’s a zipper then, followed by the swish of fabric falling. 

“Would you prefer my cock?” Foxx groans, lining up at the curve of Ash’s ass, brushing the head of his cock against Ash’s skin.

Ash can’t take it anymore. He’s so desperate to cum, he’s so ashamed that this is getting him off. He’s getting fucked by an older man–bending down for him, calling him Sir–and it’s making him so fucking hard. “Please, sir,” he begs again. “I want your cock, please sir, I want your cock, please–”

Foxx cants his hips forward, pressing against Ash’s hole gently, slowly entering him. It fucking hurts, and Ash intinsticvely moved forward only for his hips to be held in place by Foxx’s firm grip.

“Let your ass stretch as I enter you. Take a deep breath.” Foxx commands. “Wait for me. Wait like a good boy.”

“Yes, sir,” Ash whines. He reaches a hand under the desk, palming his own cock, trying to find some relief, trying to jerk himself off, but Foxx even stops that, reaching around and gripping Ash’s wrist and pulling him back.

“I haven’t allowed you to touch yourself,” he chastises.

Ash can hear the smile in the Colonel’s voice and he wants to cry with how unfair it is.

“You cum when I tell you to cum,” Foxx orders, and then he pushes in further.

It’s too much. Ash gasps in surprise, the stretch is painful, and too much, too much, and then Foxx pushes in further and–

There it is again.

That spot, that bundle of nerves that explodes with feeling. Ash wants that, he chases it, he arches his back pushing himself further onto Foxx’s cock, and now Foxx is groaning too—panting deep, breathy sighs of pleasure as he finishes pushing every inch of his cock inside Ash’s hole.

“Hn…” Ash moans as his body trembles. Foxx starts to rock back and forth and Ash moans louder and louder.

Every time, Foxx’s cock hits that spot, and every time Ash gasps in pleasure, no longer biting back his sound, his cries growing louder and louder as he gets closer and closer to spilling everywhere.

“Please, sir,” Ash whimpers. “Please, please sir, please, please–”

Ash doesn’t know what he’s asking for anymore. He wants to be allowed to touch himself. He wants to feel Foxx cum inside of him, he wants Foxx to hit that little spot forever, he wants, he wants, he–

“Please can I cum, sir?” Ash gasps out, hand trying to reach for his cock again. “I need, I need–”

“Touch yourself,” Foxx leans over, still bucking into Ash, fingers grasping Ash’s hips so hard they’re leaving bruises. “Touch yourself. I want to see you cum, touch yourself, Ash.”

Ash obeys immediately, taking his cock in hand and pumping only once before he’s spurting against the underside of the desk, his orgasm bursting through him so hard and so fast he can’t breathe.

Foxx is still fucking him, harder and harder into Ash’s loose hole now. Suddenly, he grunts loudly in Ash’s ear and bites down close to the back of Ash’s neck as he cums, spilling his warm seed inside Ash’s body.

“I feel your warm cum inside me, sir.”Ash breathes heavily, after they’ve both collapsed against the desk. Ash is still panting hard, sweat dripping down his forehead. His hand is sticky with his own cum, and Foxx lays heavy against him, his regulation hat falling to the floor with a soft thump as his breathing slows, steady and heavy against Ash’s ear.

“How did that feel?” Foxx murmurs, still inside of Ash, body warm and strong, and smelling of aftershave.

“It was very good, sir,” Ash answers obediently, not sure what to say, or what to do, that anxiety returning with a vengeance as his stomach turns circles. There’s a cock still inside him. He was just fucked by another man. Foxx came inside him, and he can feel it dripping out, warm and sticky against his thighs.

Slowly, Foxx draws out, a squelching wet sound accompanying him and making Ash’s cheeks flame again. He remains still, feeling the chill of the air on his gaping ass, as Foxx pulls up his pants, zipping and buckling once more, and then walking towards the door.

Ash pushes himself up, wincing at the soreness of his backside, unsure of where to wipe his hand. Foxx isn’t looking at him anymore, but there is no malice emanating from the man– just something akin to impatience. Ash hurriedly pulls up his boxers, finally using his shirt to mop up the mess between his thighs and his hand. “Sorry, sir,” he mumbles, standing straight again, and biting at his lower lip. “I–”

“You are not allowed to be out of your barracks at this time, young Golzine” Foxx says. It is dry, and authoritative, and strictly command voice. “I won’t report you.  _ This _ time.”

“Yes, sir,” Ash answered meekly, ducking his head, and moving towards him. He’d been so powerful when he arrived at boot camp–so arrogant, so cocky. Foxx has completely deflated him of that.

And Ash likes it.

Foxx opens the door for him, letting the cold night air in.

And as Ash walks passed, sock feet padding on the floor, Foxx whispers,

_ “My office, at midnight, is always open.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on Twitter:  
> [Agentcoop](twitter.com/agentcoop1)  
> [Myka](https://twitter.com/mykafl)  
> [Salmon](https://twitter.com/salmon95)


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